


I Can't Describe the Joy They Bring (cuz joy is something they don't bring me)

by s0ymilk



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Christmas, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 09:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13004937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s0ymilk/pseuds/s0ymilk
Summary: A boring, snowy night at the Eden's Twilight coffee shop brings Andrew a new and /very/ interesting customer.





	I Can't Describe the Joy They Bring (cuz joy is something they don't bring me)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift fic for daddymemeyard through the AFTG exchange! They asked for: the monsters, andreil, twins with glasses and curly hair, and sassy one liners. I don't think I delivered on the one-liners, but hopefully you enjoy it anyway!
> 
> Title from Blink-182's 'I Won't Be Home for Christmas'.

Outside the window of the Eden’s Twilight coffee shop, the snow was flurrying so thickly that nothing could be seen past it, not even the obnoxious strings of icicle lights that Nicky and Roland had insisted on hanging from the roof overhang. The weather channel had predicted a few inches overnight at most, but considering it had been snowing for the entirety of Andrew’s shift, he expected it would be rather more than that. Winters in Columbia were unpredictable at best. 

Not that he minded overmuch, because it meant that not a single one of the tables in the coffee shop was occupied, and he didn’t expect that to change in the next two hours. They got few customers this late at night on a Sunday to begin with. He’d considered closing up early and calling Nicky to pick him up, but that would mean subjecting himself to his cousin’s well-meaning but irritable nattering several hours ahead of schedule, and besides, Andrew had the sneaking suspicion that in his absence, Aaron might have invited his useless girlfriend over. So instead, he snatched a couple of mint double-fudge brownies from the display case, put on his glasses, and set to work balancing the accounts for the coffee shop in peaceful silence. It was normally Roland’s job, but considering he had trouble counting to four on a good day, it was better for all involved if Andrew did it. Nobody at Eden’s wanted to see if the sugar-free pineapple syrup fiasco of two years ago could be topped. 

Andrew was halfway through his work and absently pushing his too-long, curly bangs out of the way when the front door jingled suddenly. Snatching his glasses from his face, Andrew looked up as a gust of chilly wind swept through the shop. No one in their right mind could be out in this weather. And yet, there stood a figure in a dark jacket and a beanie, struggling to close the door against the biting wind. 

“We’re closed.” Andrew called, trying to keep the scowl off his face. The figure turned to him and unwrapped a snow-crusted scarf from around his neck. 

“Your sign says you’re open until midnight.” replied a soft voice, and  _ oh.  _ Oh, this was a problem. 

The figure that emerged from below the layers of winter gear was a man about Andrew’s age with a thin face dominated by high cheekbones and icy blue eyes. The strands of hair that poked from his beanie were a rich auburn colour. One side of his face was criss-crossed with thin, neat scars; the other was a mess of shiny pink skin, clearly left from some type of burn. Everything he wore was faded and threadbare, though expertly patched; his expression, when he turned it on Andrew, was tired but searching. 

Andrew met a lot of people, working at a coffee shop. And yet, he met very few who were  _ interesting.  _

“Those hours are for members only.” he tried instead. The man, halfway through shucking his coat, paused, and then continued to shrug it off. 

“Well then, can I get a membership card?” he asked. When no answer was forthcoming, he continued. “Look, it’s practically a blizzard out there. I’ll sit over by the window and not bother you, I promise. And all I want is a black coffee.” 

Andrew watched him for a moment, considering, then turned to the coffee pot and snatched a cheerful snowman-decorated coffee cup from the dispenser. He’d brewed this batch of coffee several hours ago and it likely tasted stale, but if his customer had wanted fresh coffee, he should have asked. It would have been enjoyable to tell him no. 

The man was carefully counting change out onto the counter when Andrew plunked the coffee down in front of him. Looking steadily into his ice-blue eyes (wide, thick-lashed, and annoyingly unique in colour), Andrew swept the change on the counter into a pile and then pushed it onto the floor. Satisfied by the way his customer’s eyebrows drew together in confusion and slight irritation, Andrew took his ledger and his white chocolate mocha and retreated to the opposite end of the counter. 

The man picked up the change and then took it and his coffee to the furthest table from the counter. Andrew continued his tallying and waited for the inevitable interruption, but every time he glanced up, the auburn-haired man was curled up in his chair, staring out the window. He even seemed to be drinking the coffee without protest. Silence reigned in the coffee shop for a good hour - long enough that a lesser man than Andrew might have forgotten about the stranger’s presence. 

He was wiping down the espresso machines when the bell on the front door jingled again, breaking the quiet peace in the shop. Andrew glanced up, ready to drive another hopeful away with his sharp tongue, but this time the figure that walked through the doorway was familiar. Against the backdrop of darkness and swirling snow, Nicky's bright turquoise coat and sunshine-yellow scarf and matching hat were eye-searing. The smile he gave Andrew was brighter than all of them put together. 

“Hey! I came early because I figured this place must be dead, what with the weather like it is. You ready to - oh, you actually do have a customer. Sorry, didn’t see you there.” 

The stranger was eyeing Nicky warily. One hand was on the discarded beanie on the table, the other clutching the strap of a faded duffel Andrew hadn’t noticed when he’d first walked in. He looked ready to bolt; an unusual reaction by the average person to Nicky’s presence. Curiouser and curiouser. 

“Get tired of hanging out with Aaron and his thing?” Andrew asked snidely, returning to his task. Nicky, well used to Andrew’s biting comments, ignored his tone and stomped his boots on the welcome mat to dislodge the buildup of snow. 

“Katelyn went home actually. She was afraid she’d get snowed in and have to deal with you coming home and trying to murder her.” Nicky eyed the stranger at the table with ill-concealed curiousity. “I guess I can hang out for another hour since we have some business.” 

“No, it’s okay.” the stranger interrupted, standing. He had pulled his beanie back over his hair and was in the process of shrugging on his coat. “I should get going anyway. Thanks for staying open for me.” 

“It’s kind of our job, no matter what Andrew tells you.” Nicky said with a wry smile. “Hey, there’s no other car in the parking lot. Do you need a ride somewhere? It’s too cold to be taking public transport, especially this late at night. I don’t think the bus is even still running.” 

There went Nicky again, trying to save the entire world. Andrew had been working to break him of the habit for years, but the lessons never took. He was thinking the next step should be something more consequential. A spray bottle or a shock collar, perhaps. 

“No, that’s alright. It’s not far.” the stranger said, looking somewhat spooked by Nicky’s offer. He was clutching the coffee cup hard enough that his knuckles were white. 

“Seriously, it’s not a problem.” Nicky paused for a moment, then his eyes settled on the duffel bag at the man’s feet. “Oh my god, you don’t have anywhere to stay, do you? That’s why you’re here in this weather. I can’t in good conscience let you go out in this. We have a spare room at our place, why don’t you come stay for the night? You’ll freeze, otherwise.” 

“Nicky.” Andrew said mildly. Nicky knew him well enough to hear the threat, but Andrew could see in the stubborn set of his shoulders that he wasn’t going to let this one go. Someone save him from bleeding fucking hearts like his cousin’s. It was a wonder he hadn’t been murdered in a back alley before Andrew came along to shoot down his stupid ideas. 

Still, he couldn’t deny there was something intriguing about watching the stranger’s shoulders creep up towards his ears in discomfort, and the way his eyes darted around the shop, looking for a quick exit. 

It  _ had _ been a boring year. And Bee was always telling him he needed more human interaction. This likely wasn’t what she meant, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

“Nicky’s right.” Andrew said into the awkward silence. Nicky’s hopeful smile turned into a look of confusion as he glanced at Andrew. Clearly, he hadn’t expected support from his cousin on this. It felt good to keep him on his toes. “It would be a shame if we came in to open tomorrow and found a snowman in front of the shop.” 

“It’s settled then!” Nicky said gleefully, cutting off any chance the stranger had of protesting. “Come on, let’s head home before we all turn into snowmen!” 

With Andrew at his back as the trio exited the shop, the stranger didn’t have any choice but to follow Nicky to the car parked haphazardly in the handicapped spot in front of Eden’s. He made for the backseat, but froze when Andrew set a hand on the door warningly and pointed to the passenger side seat in the front. Nicky didn’t notice his discomfort, too busy chattering as he started the car and fiddled with the radio. Andrew barely noticed the Christmas music pumping through the speakers. He made eye contact with the stranger in the rear-view mirror and smiled, sharklike. 

“I’m Nicky, by the way, and this is Andrew. Knowing him, he didn’t bother introducing himself when you came in. Roland’s been trying to get him to wear his name tag, but with Andrew you have to pick your battles.” Nicky backed out of the parking spot in a reckless maneuver without even looking behind him and gunned for the exit to the parking lot. The stranger looked away from the mirror to brace himself on the dashboard, conceding victory of the staring contest to Andrew. 

“I got that impression. ...My name’s Neil. Josten.” 

Nicky alternated between mindless nattering and badgering Neil with questions all the way home, unshaken by Neil’s terse one-word answers. Andrew was content to sit back and enjoy the uncomfortable atmosphere in the car. By the time Nicky swung into the driveway of the cousins’ house, Neil looked ready to throw himself from the moving vehicle if it would get him away from the two of them. But he followed them up the steps and towards the front door wordlessly, still clutching the strap of his duffel bag like it was his only lifeline. 

When they walked into the living room, Aaron was on the couch flipping through the channels. He looked up at them, glanced at Neil’s unfamiliar face, and went back to channel-flipping without a word. 

“This is Neil.” Nicky said to the side of his cousin’s unlistening head, gesturing at their newest addition. “Neil, this is Aaron, my cousin and - obviously - Andrew’s twin. Neil’s staying the night.” 

“You let Nicky bring home a stray?” Aaron said, eyes still on the TV. The question was clearly addressed to Andrew. Andrew ignored it in favour of snatching a pack of cigarettes off the coffee table and heading for the kitchen. Behind him, he heard Nicky offering to show Neil to his room. The sound of their footsteps on the hallway carpet faded as Andrew shoved a window open and pulled a lighter and a cigarette from his pack. 

By the time Andrew had finished his second cigarette, Aaron had turned the TV off and gone to bed, and the rest of the house was quiet. Andrew made his way down the hallway towards the bedrooms silently and stopped at the door to the guest bedroom. It was shut firmly, no noise coming from the other side. Nicky’s door was shut as well; Andrew could hear him talking to somebody on the phone, likely his boyfriend in Germany. Rolling his eyes, Andrew snatched a book from the bedside table of his own room and returned to the other side of the house to settle in by the front door, waiting. 

It was two AM before he heard careful, almost ghostlike steps from the vicinity of the hallway leading to the bedrooms. He looked up from his novel just as Neil’s eyes landed on him and he froze. He was dressed in his beanie and jacket again, duffel slung across his back. 

“Leaving so soon, Neil? Nicky didn’t extend enough hospitality for you?” Andrew asked him lightly. Neil’s brows furrowed above his attractive eyes at the statement. Andrew could practically hear the hamster wheels turning in his head as he struggled to come up with an excuse. Nothing must have come to mind, because he didn’t offer one. 

“What do you want from me?” Neil asked instead. Andrew let his eyes glance over him, from his scarred face and cupid’s bow lips to his ratty converse, soaked through by the snow and sporting a huge hole in one side. Neil tensed, but didn’t falter under the scrutiny. 

“I find you interesting, Neil Josten. How often do you think it happens that somebody with a face likes yours walks into our coffee shop, carrying a concealed pistol in a holster and his whole life on his back? Mmm?” 

Neil was smart enough not to reach for the gun Andrew had spotted tucked under his shirt at the small of his back. Would a rabbit like him be vicious enough to use it, Andrew wondered. He thought it might be interesting to find out. But more interesting by far was to stand up, book in hand, and pass Neil on his way to his bedroom, leaving the stranger a straight shot to the front door. As he stepped past Neil, he caught a whiff of cigarette smoke and the barest hint of something spicy. Neil didn’t turn towards him, but his head cocked a bit to keep him in his peripherals. 

“Nicky makes passable french toast on Sunday mornings.” he said lightly. Neil huffed at that, and Andrew knew he’d understood what Andrew was telling him. 

“I don’t like french toast.” Neil replied. Andrew made a careless gesture over his shoulder and continued down the hallway towards his room. He paused with his hand on the doorknob. 

“Your problem, not mine.” he said, and disappeared into his room. 

\--

He awoke early the next morning, groggy from lack of sleep, and padded out into the kitchen in search of a hot chocolate or a cigarette, whichever was easier to reach. 

The sounds of Nicky talking spiritedly to someone, accompanied by the smell of eggs and bacon cooking, reached him before he rounded the corner. When he did, it was to the sight of Nicky overcooking an omelette at the stove and a familiar auburn-haired figure seated at the breakfast bar, cradling a cup of coffee. 

Neil turned and met Andrew’s gaze squarely, coffee mug pressed to his lips. His look was challenging.  _ I’m still here. Are you going to say anything about it?  _ It dared him.  Andrew looked away from Neil without a word and set about making himself an extra-large cup of hot chocolate. 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I Can't Describe the Joy They Bring (The Universe Approved Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15023507) by [sunrise_and_death](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunrise_and_death/pseuds/sunrise_and_death)




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